


No Day But Today

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-01
Updated: 2010-09-01
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Though it may seem that time has been good to you, it will never be on your side. It will always be a silent thief lurking in the background. Lily Evans is finding this out the hard way and won't let anyone help her out. She is too strong. But even the toughest  people need a shoulder to cry ...





	No Day But Today

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Chapter One~ Hands  


 

The muttering in the background was now only white static in the back of her mind; merely noise to fill confides of space that remained. Lily quiet normally paid strict attention to the lesson that she was presented with and would chastise those who did not follow her example. But today in Potions she paid little focus to the round professor who stood proudly in the front of the class, as he beamed with overwhelming pride over his star students. Even less attention was granted to her peers that sat around her, the ones that tossed a dull paper plane that glided soundlessly across the dusty class room. Anyone that attempted to get a response from Lily only ended up disappointed and had to find someone to talk to and in some cases, cheat off of. No, her thoughts were on something else entirely. Her wristwatch. The small golden band that stretched across her thin white wrist was simple. No extravagant jewels had been gingerly embedded around the face of the watch, nor any artful designs that danced around the numbers. It was plain. No gimmicks, no eye tricks. It was meant to tell time rather than serve as an accessory. And that fascinated the girl. She watched, and she mused as the smallest hand inched its way across the face of the watch, every second reaching a new tiny little dash. It amazed her that she could hear the soft tick that went with every slight move that the watch made. The ticking was comforting to her. It made everything seem so real. A concrete indication that time was in fact still moving forward and that there was no one with the power to steal time for it was just another tick of a clock. Being sad or upset didn’t stop time; it only wasted what time God has yet to bless us with. 

 

But, in spite of this, Lily still felt a tiny droplet escape from the corner of her eye. For in the back of her mind the fact was still haunting the happy thoughts that dared to cross her mind. And nothing and no one was every going to make it better. Not even the ticking of her small wristwatch. Her father was still dying. Her cousin was still dying and her mother still was just another body that laid motionless underneath the packed dirt in Manchester. Another tear fell from the brilliant emerald colored eyes as she scanned her watch for some sort of answer to her problems. For a reason to hold back the tears that were slipping away from her with no effort. But from the watch came no such needed answer. It came from a cold touch on her should, a hand that held strong, keeping her body from shaking entirely. There was no urge the surged thtough her to look for whom the hand belonged to, no need to turn around and see who had helped her. 

 

Why it had helped her so much was not clear to her; it was a confusing blur. It was nothing more than a simple hand on her shoulder. Not a whisper of sweet and caring words that soothed nor was it a gentle hug that calmed the nerves with its warmth. No, it was an ice cold hand that gripped her shoulder with the strength to keep the rest of her body from revealing her break down. It gave her the strength that she was unable to find for herself just in time for Professor Slughorn to release the class for the day. Relief washed itself over Lily’s complete being as she gathered her untouched book bag and the empty parchment that was meant to bare the notes on the days lecture but instead held small drops of water; where her tears had fallen. She had been weak and that paper held the memory of that. Every damp circle bore the truth of what had happened: Lily Anne Evans had broken down. She couldn’t handle the though of that carrying on. On her way out of the classroom she chucked the evidence into the wastebasket. 

 

Her eyes were pinned straight ahead of her, she was going to get library before anyone would have the chance to stop her. It was the perfect time to get out of the eyes of her peers. She had known the thoughts that were behind every concerned stare or glance. Everyone was waiting for her to explode again. In ways they were wanting for her to be Lily again, to lecture everyone on their wrong doing, though it hadn’t been very long. Only a few weeks lingered behind the sixth year students of the new Lily. The passion was no longer sparked inside of her and the fact was clear to her, no matter how often she denied it. _Just until I am normal again, just until I am over this_ , she though. But the fact was that she was skipping dinner to sit in a dusty library away from the rest of the people she called friends, to flip mindlessly from page to page just as she had for the last five days. 

 

The colors of the portraits blurred together as she trekked up the Hogwarts staircase. In her previous years at school, happier years, it wasn’t strange to see her striking up a conversation with selected pieces of art. She used to take her time going places in the castle. The ghosts were friendly to her and would stop to talk to about her progression in her studies and all except Peeves enjoyed her. But now she ignored the clear attempts that they took to reach out to her. Especially today. She just cared about getting herself to the library. She even ignored Madame. Pince. Most of the students would say that the over protective librarian was an underfed vulture and crazy but Lily was always civil to the women. She would never just dart passed her towards the back. Well, she used to never do such things. 

 

Sitting down in the back of the library was a comfort for her. It was normal and mood neutral for the most part. When she wanted to get away from everything and everyone she would sit there. When she was bursting with overwhelming joy she would go there and engulf her thoughts in a textbook. Either way, either mood, this section of the library was meant for Lily Evans. Carved into the corner of the dark wooden desk wore proudly: 

 

L.A.E

’71~’78 

Her index finger laced gingerly over the small letters as if her skinny finger was going to break the desk. She was waiting for a shock to bolt up her arm but no such feeling rose from her. Not even a flinch. The lids of her eyes closed with furry and she tried to muster up the will power to bring forth the somber memory of the two happiest students at Hogwarts. But nothing happened. 

 

It took a few moments for empty girl to find the energy to open her eyes again, but when she did, she regretted doing so. Blistering tears tore down her crimson cheeks. But the hardest thing for Lily Evans was letting herself down, which was exactly, in her mind, what she was doing. She wiped her eyes clean of the trails but the dampness lingered with her. They burned into her skin. It was physical proof that she was crumbling, that her life was slamming to a complete halt without her consent. She looked back down at the watch that rested heavily on her arm. 

 

It kept moving.

 

 

It kept going, tick by tick, second by second. 

 

 

Only Lily stayed behind. 

 

 

Only Lily was broken.

 

 

 


End file.
